The Mafia’s Wanted Desires

ASHLEY

My heels were long gone.

My feet paddled softly against the cold floor of the hallways that led to where he was taking me. I glanced at him, just like I had been doing since we left the rooftop. His quietness bothered me a lot. I didn’t know which was more bugging. The fact that he had been quiet forever or the fact that I couldn’t read him and I didn’t know what was going on in his head. I think it had to be the two. My eyes darted away from his face to our entwined hands and I squeezed them softly, assuring him without words that I was here with him.

He countered every one of my hopes to utter a word when he stopped in front of an onyx-black door that radiated regality. He detached our intertwined hands, wrapping his arms around me and tugging me closer, and then he planted a soft kiss on my lips. He attached his forehead to mine, breathing softly.

“We could go back, you know…” His voice trailed and a frown automatically made its way to my face. If I wanted to turn back before, that feeling had completely diminished, leaving a burning curiosity to settle within me. I was now more inquisitive than ever.

“No, Arden. Just open the door.” I demanded, my voice firm. He exhaled and stepped away from me. I took that as my chance to examine his tense features. His green eyes were clouded with worry and something akin to fear. I furrowed my brows at him, wondering what was behind the door that had him so rattled.

“You have to understand that you can leave if you want___”

“Open the fucking door, Arden Gray,” I ordered him and he nodded, inserting his hands into his pocket to retrieve a key he had gotten from his study a while ago. He inserted it into the keyhole and opened the door. Before he could say Jack Robinson, I had already stepped into the dark room.

There was something about the room that made instant chills crawl up my spine. No, it wasn’t the kind of chills I got whenever I was scared, it was the kind of chills I got whenever I found something exciting and so unpredictable. I stood at a spot in total darkness, my eyes straying to nowhere in particular. The lights came on in a nanosecond and a light gasp escaped my lips.

My eyes scoured the dark blue-themed room. The lights were on but they were dim, giving the room a bluish aura. Everything in the room was completely blue. But no, that wasn’t what caught my breath in my throat. It was the setting of the room. The bed that occupied the middle of the room was covered with dark blue satin sheets, and by the bedpost, two handcuffs hung at each side. The wooden stands that stood proudly in some parts of the room had different chains, whips, floggers and some other objects I could barely fathom neatly hung on them.

The room reeked of one thing.

Dominance.

In abundance.

And I knew, right there, that I was standing in a playroom.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“You are a Dom?” I asked quietly and I expected an answer to my question, but all I got was silence. I knew I should be terrified by the unpredictability of the whole thing, but I wasn’t. I swallowed the spit that was starting to build up in my mouth and then, I felt his presence at my back. He wasn’t overly close to me, there was still a few inches of space hanging between us, but I could feel the heat that radiated off his masculine body burning through the skin of my black dress and surging through my veins.

He inched forward, his fingers dropping on my shoulder blade and I sucked in a harsh breath. I could feel the blood in my veins drying up, leaving a cold to shimmer in my veins. My mouth was completely dry, my heartbeat quickening in pace. His lips brushed my earlobe and I couldn’t suppress the loud moan that spluttered from my mouth.

“Yes,” he answered, and I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach. I grew nervous, wishing he would say something again. I have heard his voice in different shades but there was something about the way he spoke to me right now. It was ruggedly cold, a nerve-wracking dominance hung in his tone.

“Are you scared?” He queried, monotonously.

“No,” I answered in all honesty.

I hadn’t tried this before but I knew I was safe with him and a huge part of me found this so exciting.

“I trust you,” I told him and heard him chuckle. The dark sound was accompanied by a soft kiss being pressed to my shoulder blade and my eyes fluttered shut, breezily. I released a sigh, tilting my head to the side to grant him more access to my neck.

“My Peach…” His voice trailed off.

“All mine!” He growled possessively, yanking me to himself until there was no space left between, and I moaned at the rough contact. I was pressed tightly against him, my backside grazing his crotch and I wiggled softly, eliciting a grunt from him. My pussy watered shamelessly at the sound that left his lips.

“All yours,” I whispered.

His hands slipped off my shoulder blade, crawling downwards until they rested on my breasts and brushed one of my hardened buds that was begging for a release in the dress I was wearing. Two of his fingers were soon encased around it, pinching it softly and I mewled, wiggling in his arms.

“You should know…”

“I am in total control here and we move at my pace. I have to know if you are willing to give up control for me. You are going to have to trust me and follow every one of my instructions. That’s the only way this is going to work.” He divulged, making it so hard for me to keep track of what he was saying as his hands disappeared beneath my dress. I could barely find my voice and the only thing my brain could comprehend was spreading my legs. And that was exactly what I did because I felt a soft stroke on my clit, and it had tears pooling in my eyes.

I was restless and frustrated and I needed a release.

“You are not saying anything,” He chuckled, stroking me again.

“Yes, yes. I’ll do everything you say, just let me come.” I breathed and felt him retract his finger from my throbbing pussy.

“This is exactly how I want you.”

“A needy whore.”

“Under no circumstances are you allowed to come without my permission. Failure to understand that comes with punishment. Do you understand me, Peach?” He demanded sternly, trailing his fingers on my bare lap and showering kisses on my exposed neck.

“Yes, sir,” I responded.

“You are going to need a safeword in case it gets overwhelming and you want us to stop.” He spoke up, giving my waist a soft squeeze. His hands on me made it so difficult for me to form a coherent speech. My breath was seizing at intervals and my throat was running dry.

“Peach,” I uttered in a heartbeat. It was symbolic for me in so many ways. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Perfect,” His voice was barely above a whisper and before I could process what was going on, he spun me around to face me and I could have sworn time was brought to a standstill when our eyes locked in a stare.

I gasped.

My breath was punched out of my lungs, seizing completely.